


spill your guts (no one wants to hear)

by lezzylittle



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, POV Second Person, i love this so much, janus sanders is a supportive boyf, one of my favorite things i've written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25921177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lezzylittle/pseuds/lezzylittle
Summary: remus is struggling with acceptance. janus is there to help.
Relationships: Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders, implied dukeceit - Relationship
Comments: 8
Kudos: 40





	spill your guts (no one wants to hear)

you can feel eyes on you. and not the normal, slightly judgy but trying to not be gaze of any of the light sides, or the what the actual fuck was thomas thinking accepting _you_ glare of virgil, but the calm, i know what you’re doing, please let me help stare of janus.

it’s movie night, and you are _trying_. you are trying to be good, shooing every not pg thought of yours into the back of your head. you feel like a pressure cooker, and you’re pretty sure that by the end of the night, your head is going to burst open and spill brains and blood and nasty shit everywhere.

and _that_ thought also gets banished.

you can feel jan’s eyes on you as you fidget, as you twist the tail of your possum onesie, jiggle your leg (you only stop because logan says please and you can tell he’s tired of you, they’re all tired of you, go literally anywhere else and stop bothering them), gnaw your lip til it bleeds, then suck on it til it’s done. and repeat.

“remus,” his voice is by your ear and you flinch. you know he knows. he knows that you know that he knows. you’re repressing, and didn’t we have an entire episode on why we don’t do that? but you, god forbid, have been accepted, and that means not blurting out every stupid thought that you can’t help. it’s been nonstop all day, every meal you’ve shoved your thoughts to the side, every conversation riddled with gore and things you’d normally be ecstatic to share!

_imagine patton making a brain cake. a cake made of brains, not shaped like one._

no, nope, not allowed.

“remus, come with me to the bathroom.”

“if you wanted me alone, that’s all you had to say, deedee!” your voice is fake chipper, your smile false, your hands shaking. “be right back!”

the two of you make your way to the bathroom in the hall, shut and lock the door, and you know you aren’t in trouble, but it feels like you are.

“remus,” he says again, and you wonder what it’d be like to hear him scream your name while you fucked him senseless - or maybe while he fucked you senseless. you’ve never been particular. he leans in, presses your foreheads together and cups your cheek with one hand. “your head hurt?”

“you know it!” still too cheery, even as your mouth twists into a frown. “i’m trying to be good, jan. i really am.”

“hm. someone told me good and bad is all made up nonsense once.” he’s got you there! you did, in fact, say that. put it into a song even! “rem. you don’t have to hurt yourself to be accepted.” you scoff. “alright, fine. we’re here, in the bathroom. let them out here. don’t hold them back with me, okay? just let them spill out.”

you hesitate. you know jan means it. jan only speaks honestly around you, and only in private. you know you’re safe with him. you know that if you don’t get them out now, they’ll affect thomas, and then you’ll get yelled at anyway. (not yelled. disappointedly scolded. you’re not sure what’s worse.)

he sees your hesitation (he’s always been the best at reading between your lines), frowns to himself and lightly strokes your cheek with his thumb.

“you’re safe here. would you rather go to one of our rooms?”

“no!” you’re not ruining movie night any more than you already have. patton had been so _excited_ when you and janus had both agreed to come. “no.”

“then talk, as much as you need to, okay?” you feel something in your heart wriggling, and you think it might be a maggot, or love.

and because you love him, because _he_ loves _you_ , you talk. you talk, and talk, and talk, for what feels like hours but can’t be more than a few minutes. time means nothing, except every thought that comes pouring out of your mouth brings a tear, and soon you’re crying in his arms, holding tight to your lifeboat as you suffer through the flood you’ve held back.

“there we go, there you are,” he murmurs once you’re sure you’re done. “how’s your head?”

“i’on’t feel like a tea kettle with no spout ‘nymore,” you slur in response, exhausted from what you’ve just put out into the world. you can feel him smile into your hair. “sorry..”

“don’t.” you shift to stare up at him. “don’t ever apologize for needing to let your thoughts out. don’t ever apologize for feeling like you have to keep them in to be liked. i’m glad you feel better, dearest. shall we clean you up and head back down?”

“mhm..” you feel boneless, not even your favorite bone to hold you up, but you let janus seat you on the toilet, let him take a damp cloth and clean the tears and snot and drool, let him guide you back down the stairs where you both sit slightly apart from the group.

“everything alright?” patton sounds concerned, but you’re not, and neither is janus.

“everything is-“ janus shoots you a pointed stare. “... it will be,” you settle on, and he eases up. “but i think.. i think tomorrow we need to talk.”

patton frowns, but nods.

you spend the rest of the night leaning back against your snake boy, occasionally whispering whatever thought you have into his ear, and earning more than a few snickers.

tomorrow will bring a new challenge but right now?

you’re good.


End file.
